Stolen Identity
by Symphoniafan
Summary: His reflection was wrong. He shifted his gaze from the face and through the glass that surrounded him. Figures, distorted by the glass, were gliding silently around the room a short distance away. They were dressed in white. Doctors, perhaps? But they seemed different. Something was off…something wasn't right…
1. Chapter 1

**Stolen Identity**

**This story was written for a friend privately, never had any intentions of publishing it, but I finished it and here we are. I apologize in advance if it's a bit difficult to follow at times; there is a specific reason for the ambiguity of the phrasing. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy. **

_**Ps. I also apologize for the lack of updates with all my other stories. I find very little time for quiet moments to write consistently. This story took over a year to puzzle together on its own. **_

Namco owns Tales of Symphonia.

**Chapter 1: **

His reflection was wrong.

He blinked slowly, his mind struggling against the thick fog that seemed to envelope his thoughts as he stared at the foreign face above him. A monotonous hum seemed to vibrate around him, the occasional sound of air rushing out of a machine breaking through.

He blinked slowly, staring at the face. He wanted to sleep, the heavy feeling threatening to bring him back down into the empty slumber he had awoken from. But something was wrong and it prevented him from drifting off.

He shifted his gaze from the face and through the glass that surrounded him. Figures, distorted by the glass, were gliding silently around the room a short distance away. They were dressed in white. Doctors, perhaps? But they seemed different. Something was off…something wasn't right…

His hand twitched, fingers curling slowly. He felt heavy, his body refusing to respond to his mind as he struggled to lift his hand. He felt the gentle tug of tubes on his arm as his hand lifted, touching the side of the glass. It felt cold against his fingers tips and he felt a shiver course through his entire body. His eyes shut for a moment, the hum of the machines droning on as he breathed slowly.

The sudden chill of the cold glass seemed to have stirred his lethargic muscles and he placed his palm fully against the glass, pushing weakly, his arm shaking from the effort. Above him the strange face twisted slightly from the strain. His hand slipped, and his arm flopped limply against the bed. His eyes roamed once more around the room.

The fog in his mind was beginning to clear, his thoughts tumbling over one another. Where was he exactly? What had happened? Where were the others?

His arm once more lifted, hand pressed against the glass firmly.

"H-Hey…" His voice sounded foreign to his ears as it rasped from his mouth. It was then he noticed the plastic that surrounded his mouth, cup-shaped, muffling his voice even more.

"Well…it seems he's awoken."

A face suddenly loomed over the glass, distorted slightly. But he knew that face…

"Don't push yourself, my old friend." The smooth voice seemed to echo in the chamber he laid in, the figure tilting its head as if getting a better of view of him. "You were injured; rest, and we'll discuss things when you have recovered, Kratos."

He frowned as a loud hissing noise from above his head filled the chamber. The face vanished from view and he felt an overwhelming pressure building in his mind. The fog was rushing back, his eyes growing heavier. His arm dropped heavily back to the bed and darkness seeped across his vision.

* * *

None of this was right.

He shut his eyes tightly against the distorted reality around him. The room he was in, the clothes that he wore, the face that—

He breathed in deeply, struggling to calm the panic that was once again rising up in his chest.

_Let me out! _

Just breathe….remember to breathe…

_What the hell did you do to me?! _

Think about something else…anything else…

_Don't call me that. That's not who I am. Stop it!_

He opened his eyes slowly, staring at the strange hands resting in his lap. None of this was right. None of it made sense. He knew who he was…right? This was…this wasn't real. It had to be an illusion, a trick.

His breath was shaky as he inhaled deeply again. He reached up, rubbing his face and then immediately flinched, withdrawing his hand as if he had been burnt.

It wasn't right. It didn't feel right.

He scanned the room, nothing of interest really showing itself. There wasn't even a mirror. Not that he would have looked anyway. He didn't dare. He didn't need to. He didn't want to…

_Kratos_.

He shuddered at the memory of the name being spoken to him, the familiar tone used. The story about how he lost his memory.

It was all a lie. That's not who he was.

He gripped his head, his fingers sinking into the lengthened strands. Different. It was all so different.

He couldn't find anything sharp enough to cut the strands. How long does it take for hair to grow so long? How long had he been asleep?

Even as he searched his brain for the memories of what happened that day. He remembered the tower, he remembered angels…seeing the coffins floating around…Colette….the chosen… hovering dead eyed… blinding light and then pain…

He grimaced in frustration as he struggled to piece together the broken fragments. It was all a lie. It had to be. He knew who he was…he knew his own name, he had the memories right?

He lowered his hands once more to his lap, staring at the strangeness of his own body. It was like he was dreaming and unable to wake up- No in a nightmare. Why did it have to be him? Why him? Why this body…

He sat up straight suddenly, his hair sweeping down across his vision as he stared blankly ahead.

Was that it? Was he trapped in his dream? A coma? Was his brain struggling to piece together a world around him to make sense of his own reality? That had to be it right? His brain was simply confused.

That's the only explanation.

* * *

"Why did you do this?"

"Do what, Kratos?"

"You know what! And stop calling me that-"

"Calm yourself, teacher. We don't you to relapse again."

He clenched his hands tightly, eyes shut tight, breathing deeply. It was increasingly frustrating, but he tried to steady his tone. He hated the sound of the voice coming from his mouth. It wasn't his own…

"Why are you doing this? Why are you playing this game? We both know I'm not Kratos."

"Then who are you?"

"Lloyd. Lloyd Irving!"

"Oh really? How interesting…I suppose you became quite attached to the boy according to the reports from the Desians."

"Stop talking as if I'm not him-"

"You're not."

The tone had shifted from reassuring and sympathetic, to slightly more harsh. He clenched his fists once more, struggling to maintain the eye contact he had with other man. But almost as quickly as the anger had come, the green eyes had softened and a soft sigh escaped the man.

"Kratos…I'm sorry. It's my fault you were injured. I didn't expect you to move in to protect the boy from the attack." He paused. "I suppose you don't recall why you did it?"

_Breathe_

"I didn't do anything."

"Give it time. Hopefully your memories will return." The angel's pale hand reached over and gripped his shoulder firmly. He immediately pulled away, glaring coldly at the man.

"I know who I am!"

He hated the way the man smiled, tilting his head to the side.

"Let me guess. You're a seventeen year old boy, raised by a dwarf, friends with the chosen, raised in Iselia and your mother was killed by desians?"

"S-Shut up-"

"You also caused a bit of trouble in the town, breaking the treaty, killed one of the prisoners as punishment and then were exiled." He sighed shaking his head. "Does it sound familiar, Kratos?"

"Enough!"

His voice was sharp and hard and he flinched from the echo it caused in the room. He turned away, his body shaking as he struggled to maintain a sense of control. He didn't want to 'relapse' again.

"I think you need more time to think it over, Kratos. I don't want you to stress out. I need you to recover."

"I'm not crazy. I don't care what you do to me or say…I'm not Kratos…"

The man sighed again, shaking his head and turning, moving to the door. "Try to focus and think clearly. The truth will make itself known, Kratos. Give it time. More importantly, look at yourself…how could you be Lloyd? He's a child."

He didn't respond and after a moment he heard the door open and shut. He shuddered violently, running his hand over his face, feeling the scratch of hair against his hand.

He didn't need a mirror to tell him that he looked different. He didn't want to see it. He could feel the way his nose was too large, he knew his hair was too long and hung over his face and down his neck. He knew that his shoulders and body were too large. There was a reason, there had to be…

**Thank you, Freakyanimegal for always requesting more and more of this story over the year. It's the reason it was written. **

**Cheers!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A much longer chapter compared to the first. It's just the way it seems to fit with the cut offs. I hope you are all enjoying it.**

**Chapter 2: **

"Lord Kratos, Lord Yggdrasil is looking for-"

"Don't call me that!" He snapped, his hand slamming onto the table.

"That is your title, Sir. Lord Yggdrasil has summoned you."

"I don't care."

"Sir-"

"Get out!"

He buried his head in his hands, his breathing ragged, his shoulders quivering as he hunched over the table. He had lost track of the time he had been here.

He wasn't tired. He wasn't hungry. He couldn't tell if it was day or night. Minutes or hours, time seemed to meld together and drag on. He couldn't think. He couldn't focus his thoughts on trying to sort out what was going on. Everyone kept using that damn name and he… he couldn't…

What was wrong with him?

He wanted to cry. He wanted to break down and let it all out. But he couldn't. He just shook, quivered and felt like he couldn't breathe. He felt empty. Why couldn't he cry?

"I'm sorry, old friend. I wish I could help you more."

The light grip on his shoulder left a cold shiver running through his body. But it helped…it helped pull him away from the void of sadness that he couldn't reach.

"Let me help you, Kratos. Teacher. After all this time, put aside your pride and let me help you remember yourself. This isn't like you at all. You always used to be in control."

"D-Don't touch me." He breathed out, his voice oddly calm for the chaos that swirled inside him. He had gotten used to controlling his voice, his tone to hide what he was actually feeling.

The hand released him and he shuddered once again, lowering his hand from his face. He stared at them, limp on the table. He was tired, tired of mentally fighting the truth. How could he be so wrong? Was he wrong? Was he really just…patching together random memories together. Was he Lloyd or was he Kratos?

He struggled to pull up memories from before, from before the blinding light and the pain. From before the tower. But they just felt like…. Frozen images, like random facts being laid out in a display for him to examine. Were they his?

He remembered Genis….Colette...Raine…

He remembered Iselia, the temple, the angel….

"Kratos?"

"I remember them…."

"Who?"

"M-My friends…"

"Kratos, they weren't your friends. You travelled with them for almost a year as their body guard. I suppose in that time you may have grown fond of them. Particularly that boy."

"No…that's not… "

"I did some research into them, Kratos." His voice turned more serious and he finally looked up at the cold green eyes. "I wasn't going to discuss this with you until you were more stable, but ….perhaps it'll help with ….your situation."

"What-"

"That boy, Lloyd. He was interesting. Perhaps I was too hasty to try and kill him in the tower before. I wanted to know why you wanted to protect him so badly that you'd risk your life. I wanted to know who he was."

He stayed silent, waiting.

"Kratos, do you remember who he was to you?"

He still said nothing, watching the man, narrowing his eyes.

"I talked to Forcystus, since he had seen the boy up close. He had an exsphere on him. Kratos, it was the angelus project, the one Kvar had apparently been working on behind my back." The annoyance was evident in his tone, it felt genuine.

"What of it?" He responded finally, impatient.

"The angelus project was created on a human female, A01. Anna. The human you ran off with. The mother of that boy."

He froze, stared at the smooth table top. "What?"

"Lloyd, is your son, Kratos. That's why you protected him. That's why you…I think that's why you are identifying as him. He was the last thought on your mind before your injury-"

"That's not true!" He snapped, standing abruptly, his hands slamming down.

"It is."

You're lying! This is all a lie! It's not true!" He slammed the table again.

"Then what is your explanation!"

He flinched, withdrawing a bit, but Yggdrasil grabbed his wrist and dragged him across the room, through another door.

"I've been patient with you, Kratos. But enough is enough. Look at yourself and tell me that's not who you are!"

The light blinded him and he squinted in the light, realizing they were in a small washroom. He had avoided the room, knowing it contained a mirror. He tried to turn away, trying to shove the man aside, but the delicate hand grasped his chin in an iron grip and jerked his head roughly towards the mirror.

"Look at yourself, Kratos. Look and then tell me who you see."

It was too late to shut his eyes against the image that seared into his mind. He felt his throat tighten, the tension spreading across his body as he locked his gaze with that of a familiar face. One he knew. The angle of the nose and the eye, the shape of his chin, the way his hair fell across his face. He looked disheveled, unkempt, but it didn't hide the familiarity of the face. The face he had looked upon and loathed. He could remember that loathing and he supposed…

"Do you see it now? How could think you are, Lloyd?" He released his grip on his chin, but remained behind him, blocking the door. "Is this how you remember that boy? Is this the face of a seventeen year old?"

He scanned the face; the pained, saddened expression and wondered if maybe he was delusional. Maybe he was pretending to be someone else, trying to replace his memories with …with Lloyd's…

He gritted his teeth and turned sharply, shoving Yggdrasill aside as he stormed from the room.

* * *

Lloyd is Kratos' son.

It was how he had to phrase it in his mind. How else could he phrase it? Lloyd is my son? Kratos is my dad? He twitched at both and shook his head.

Was it a lie or was it true? He struggled to find some memory of it, but there was nothing. No clue, nothing.

He looked up scanning the room, frowning. This place was supposedly his room. Kratos' room. He hadn't really paid much attention to it since he woke up in here. He rose from the table and wandered back into the bedroom. He hadn't slept since he had initially woke up. How long had it been? He wasn't even tired physically.

The room was dark and it took him a moment to find the light. It was dimmer than the others in the place, but he didn't seem to have any issues making out the details. The bed lay untouched since he woke. Beside it were a small nightstand and a chair with clothes draped over it. He glanced at the wardrobe, opening the doors for a moment before closing it. Just a few of the same looking attire hanging in it. He walked over to the nightstand, pulling open a small drawer.

Empty.

He sighed, shutting it and then sitting on the bed, burying his face in his hands. What had he expected? A letter? A picture? Why would there be?

* * *

"Where is he?"

"Change your tone, Yuan. He's fine, but in a delicate situation, you shouldn't visit."

"Don't tell me what I should do, Yggdrasil. What the hell were you thinking?"

He lifted his head, glancing at the closed door of his room. He didn't know how long he had been sitting on the bed. Had he drifted off to sleep? Is that how he'd rest from now on? Or had he always done it…

"I want to see him."

"Yuan, he's not stable. There have been inconsistencies with his-"

He stood, sighing, annoyed with the raised voices. The silence had become welcoming. He glanced at the door, wondering if he should bother revealing himself to whoever was out there. It was most likely Yggdrasil. But the other name…

Curiosity more than anything drove him to open the door and step out. Almost immediately their attention shifted on to him. He instantly noted the varying expressions of the two men that stood in the room. Yggdrasil gave a small smile that did not reach his eyes as he felt the gaze settle on him. The other man was an expression of shock and surprise that was quickly hidden and exchanged with a stone-faced one.

"Were you sleeping?"

He looked at Yggdrasil, narrowing his gaze at the ridiculous question. "What do you think?"

The man smiled and then gestured at the man with long blue hair. "Do you remember Yuan? He came to check on you."

He frowned, studying the new visitor, struggling to pinpoint where the man fit into his memories. He did remember him. He seemed familiar. The hair, the ridiculous cape…

"Kratos?"

He twitched, flicking his gaze back to Yggdrasil involuntarily, which resulted in a pleased smile. He stiffened, annoyed that he had responded that way.

"Perhaps we should let you rest-"

"I know you." He ignored Yggdrasil, focusing on the shorter man, a half-elf, judging by the exposed ear. Where had he seen him before…

The man spoke slowly, scanning him with a strange expression. "You look…well, considering what happened. How much do you remember exactly?" He glanced momentarily at Yggdrasil with a concerned gaze.

"Not much."

"I see."

He sat at the table, the same spot. It seemed like that's all he did recently was move from spot to spot to sit. After a moment, he noticed Yuan settle into a chair opposite of him, his eyes staring at him intently.

"Do you know who you are?"

He paused, his hand clasped at his chin, tense and then relaxed. He noticed how this man wasn't like Yggdrasil. He wasn't pushing that name onto him, rather seeing what his opinion was first. He almost smiled if it wasn't for the question.

"No."

The room got quite, and he closed his eyes, the aching pain rising in his chest again, threatening to suffocate him. He sighed shakily and lowered his head, his knuckles resting on his forehead.

"Yuan, we've been working very hard on helping, Kratos remember who he is. I trust you wish for the same." Yggdrasil spoke softly, breaking the silence.

"Of course." The response was immediate, but flat.

He sighed again.

"Well then, I'm afraid I must leave, but stay as long as you wish, Yuan. Kratos, I'll see you later."

He didn't even lift his head or acknowledge Yggdrasil's departure. He could care less. The silence continued for a time and he felt his thoughts starting to wander.

"Who are you?"

He jolted up, his head lifting and his eyes meeting Yuan's. The half-elf's gaze was focused on him intently.

"What?"

"Who are you? Who do you think you are?" He pressed the question again, his expression betraying nothing.

"I…I don't know."

"Truly? You don't know? You have no memory whatsoever-"

"What do you want me to say?" He snapped, his hands lowering. "You want me to say a name, just so you can tell me that I'm wrong? That I should know who I am?"

"Are you Kratos?"

He clenched his teeth, looking aside scowling slightly.

_Breathe…_

"That's what I'm told."

"What do you think?"

"I don't know…"

"What do you remember-"

"Enough!" He slammed his hands down standing and shoving his chair back. He turned his back taking a few steps from the table, inhaling sharply, struggling to quell his anger and frustration.

"You can be angry."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"He calls it a relapse and they sedate me. The last time, I almost killed an angel. I don't want that to happen again."

It was quite for a time. He knew this man. He could remember him. Did that mean everything was true? Was he truly Kratos? Yggdrasil hadn't mentioned him before this. It had sounded like he didn't want him to visit. So it wasn't a trick. And this half-elf seemed concerned. He sighed and turned back around, taking his seat again.

"I'm sorry. I'm frustrated."

"I can...understand that." Yuan paused then sighed, his tone changing. "You need to tell me what you remember."

"Why?"

"Maybe I can help fill in the….blanks."

He looked up perplexed. "You were there?"

"No, but I know Kratos. And if you are Kratos I should be able to help right?" He eyed him, almost like he was stating a challenge.

"I remember….arriving at the tower. Colette….the chosen had…. Had completed the last seal, a blue flash of light around me, then Yggdrasil was there…" He sighed. "A light and then it goes dark. I woke up ….in a glass case and he was calling me Kratos. That's all I remember."

"I see. What about the other companions?"

"Genis and Raine."

"So you remember them. That's…good."

"Why?" He looked at him. "Are they important?

"Every detail is important. It allows connections to be …..built."

"You are being careful with your words, Yuan."

Yuan smirked. "Always. What about before the tower? Do you remember anything before then-"

"Just small bits. Little images about the journey. Sometimes I feel like…I'm looking at myself through another's eyes. Other times it feels like I'm someone else. I remember the dragons, the seals, fighting, training…" His eyes closed, clenching his hands.

"You haven't mentioned Lloyd."

He stiffened immediately, his eyes locking onto Yuan. The half-elf tilted his head, curious about his reaction no doubt. Had Yggdrasil told him about his claims? Was he going to look at him all sympathetic and make him feel crazy about himself too.

"What of it?"

Yuan blinked, taken aback by the statement, then smirking weakly. "Well I've definitely heard that spoken before. Look, I just… you seemed to remember the Chosen and the Sage siblings. But Lloyd was also on that trip. I'm just surprised he hasn't ….come up in your recollection."

He frowned, glancing aside. "I know Lloyd."

"And what about Kratos? You know him?"

The question surprised him a bit, but the surprise quickly turned to frustration. "Why are you asking the questions like that?"

"Simply because all those people were present during the tower and you claim you don't know who you are." Yuan's tone quickly turned sharp and challenging. "You aren't Yggdrasil, clearly, so who are you?"

"I don't know."

"Say a name."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't know who I am?!" He snapped. "So why don't you tell me who the hell I am?!"

Yuan looked at him quietly for a moment and then pushed his chair back, rising and walking over towards him. He reached into his pocket and pulled something out, laying it on the table.

"It's not my place to tell you that. But I hope you figure it out. For everyone's sake."

As Yuan moved away, the item remained on the table. It was small, and round. A pendant on a chain. A locket?

_A broken clasp? I can fix that._

"This…"

Yuan watched him from across the room, his arms folded. "So you know of it."

"Yes."

This was…this was the locket that broke…during the journey…

_Shouldn't open it, can't be seen._

He hesitated, then reached over, lifting the tiny thing, holding it in his hand. He found the latch and popped it open.

He blinked, staring down at the small image that rest inside.

Three faces smiled back at him. Two of those faces were familiar. The third made his heart ache.

"It's true then."

"What is?"

"That…that…we're family." He spoke softly, staring at the image. "He wasn't lying."

"Yes." Yuan responded quietly.

"Why did you give this to me?"

"Because it's yours, is it not?"

He stared at the tiny photograph and then careful closed the locket. He lifted the chain, over his head and tucked it beneath his shirt.

"How did you get it?"

"I found it at the tower where you had both been struck. I held onto it."

"I see."

Yuan remained quiet for a moment and then sighed rubbing his face and cursing under his breath softly. "Damn this messes things up a lot. Look…you need to remember and you need to get yourself sorted out. I hope that thing helps you a bit. I'll check on you later, but I have to go. And don't let Yggdrasil get to you. He'll take advantage of the fact that you don't remember very much. Just…trust yourself, you know the truth.

He frowned, watching Yuan head for the door, hands curling slightly. He wanted to ask the question, but he didn't know how. If he asked for one or the other, would it confirm his own identity?

"Yuan." He called out quickly.

"Yes?"

"Is-…." He paused hesitating, then looking up. "Is _he_ alive?"

Yuan looked at him for a long moment, a worried expression crossing his face and then a sigh. "Yes, _he _is. You both were injured pretty severely, but _he _is alive."

"I…I see. That's good. Thank you."


	3. Chapter 3

**Hope you enjoy!**

Namco owns Tales of Symphonia.

**Chapter 3:**

The sky was calming. He stared up at the swirling clouds, the purple hue shifting and changing. He could feel the energy, the mana saturating the air around him. There was no wind, just a calm stillness and a dull, constant hum that seemed to radiate through the world. In the silence he could make out the smallest sounds, echoing from across the strange metal city.

It felt alien and comforting at the same time and a part of him wondered if he had been here before. He closed his eyes, sighing heavily. It was getting more difficult, as time passed, to continue to argue with the facts. Yggdrasil was relentless, coaxing and urging his recovery along, making small comments and reflections on how he seemed to be 'becoming his old self again.'

The problem was, he wasn't sure who that was anymore.

He had lost weight, or so they told him. He felt weaker, he was sure about that. They wouldn't tell him how long he had been unconscious for. The vague details unsettled him. But there was an undeniable fact that he couldn't shake.

He was changing.

Since the time he woke up, confused and bewildered, he had been changing. He couldn't quite understand it nor knew what the cause of it was. But he felt different than before. Was it because he was adapting to the situation? Was it because of the drugs? Or was he finally just accepting himself.

He glanced up, realizing he had wandered back towards his personal quarters. With little else to do, he entered them. Immediately the humming seemed to vanish from the air and he felt his mind clear. It still surprised him how sensitive he was to sounds now, especially low constant ones.

"Did you enjoy your walk, Kratos?"

He flinched glancing towards the sofa to find Yggdrasil waiting for him, a pleasant smile upon his face.

"What do you want?"

"I came to see how you are doing?"

"The same as all the other days."

"Do you feel more like yourself?"

He bristled slightly at the question, glaring at the other man. He hated the way he tried to force him to acknowledge his identity, pretending it was just polite conversation.

"What do you want?"

"I think you need to follow a schedule of sorts, something that will help you regain your endearing optimistic personality." The sarcastic tone was emphasized by the amused look on Yggdrasil's face.

"Just leave me alone."

"I'm afraid I won't, dear friend. I feel responsible for the way you are now, and I want to do everything I can to help you." He pushed himself up, walking over, gripping his shoulder firmly. "Now, here is what I am suggesting, but I need your cooperation if we are to do this."

"Don't touch me." He tried to shrug off his hand, but Yggdrasil's grip simply tightened.

"I'm willing to return your sword to you so you can exercise and train. Rebuild your strength in a sense. However, you need to promise me that you won't hurt or threaten anyone else with it."

A sword? He was really willing to give him a sword? He tensed slightly, pondering the offer, eyeing the other man suspiciously. The possibilities that this provided were too good to pass up. However…

"Two."

"Excuse me?"

"I'd like two swords."

"Why exactly- oh, I see. Very well." Yggdrasil sighed releasing him. "If it's important to you, I'll allow it, just remember to focus on who you are. For the time being you'll be restricted to using the sword only in the training grounds at least until you have stabilized. Am I clear, Kratos?"

"Noted." He answered curtly.

* * *

Something was wrong.

He frowned looking at the blade in his hand. It was heavy and quite long. The handle and grip seemed too large, yet it fit comfortably in his hand. He lifted it easily, but as he moved his arm around with the blade, it wobbled and dipped as if he had no control.

He blinked and then smiled, chuckling bitterly.

Then he was right. After all this time, of course, why hadn't he thought of it. The thing he was most comfortable using were his swords, what he practiced with and perfected all this time. If he was Kratos, surely he'd be able to use his own sword. That had to mean he wasn't right. It meant then…

He glanced over at the table holding a pair of twin blades. They were smaller than the one he held, a different shape to them. He set the sword down and gripped the twin blades, lifting them from the table.

His smile faded and was immediately replaced with a frown.

No. No!

He gripped the handles tightly, turning swinging with them, slashing, thrusting. His teeth clenched, his knuckles white as he clumsily swung the blades around him. Then he stopped, shaking eyes shut firmly. He gasped for air, his shoulders quivering as he struggled with the emotion that he seemed unable to experience.

Why? Why were they wrong? How could they be wrong?

He clenched his hands around the hilts, gritting his teeth and swung them through the air once more, slashing at imaginary foes. He stumbled from the momentum, struggling to correct himself.

'_Widen your stance'_

They didn't feel right.

'_Control your motion, don't over extend yourself.'_

These belonged to him, they had to!

'_Lloyd.'_

How could he forget who he was?

'_Lloyd.'_

How could he get so messed up? Why couldn't he remember?

'_Lloyd!'_

Remember!

"Kratos!"

He felt the hilt slip from his left hand, the blade whipping across the area, striking the wall with a deafening clang. He froze, wincing at the sound, trembling as he watched the blade clatter to the floor.

"What the hell are you doing?"

He turned, feeling the sweat dripping down his face and he quickly brushed it away with his hand. "Yuan, I…"

He felt the half-elf take the other blade from his hand, a glaring, but anxious expression on his face.

"Sit down."

He nodded numbly, the rage and frustration seeping from him and he felt the shaky quiver of his limbs as he settled on a bench. He refused to meet the half-elf's gaze.

"I'm sorry."

"What are you doing out here?"

"I don't know."

"You don't look well." Yuan set the sword back on the table.

"You called me by that name." He couldn't prevent the bitterness in his voice from leaking out.

"It was the only thing that seemed to get your attention. Forgive me, I was worried you were going to hurt yourself." He walked over, sitting beside him. "Two blades? Did you make a decision then?"

"It was…an experiment , I guess."

"And what did you learn?"

"Wasn't it obvious?"

"Not so much. You seemed to be reacting emotionally to something, so it was difficult to tell really."

"It wasn't right. It didn't feel…the same."

"The same? You mean the way it felt when you were Lloyd?"

He twitched looking up at him quickly.

"What-?"

"I assumed that's what you meant? You were using two swords to mimick Lloyd's style, to see if that's who you are, correct?"

He hesitated then nodded.

"But it's different?"

"Very."

"And what about one blade? Like Kratos uses."

"It felt wrong too."

"Perhaps it's because you haven't used a blade in quite some time, your muscles aren't used to the strain of the movement and weight of the blade."

He looked down, pondering Yuan's words carefully. Was that all? Was his body simply not adjusting to the weight of the swords like it used to? But then…did it help at all? One or two blades, it all still felt strange to him. And it wasn't like they were particularly heavy. They just felt strange in his hands…

"Yuan."

"Yes?"

"Tell me."

He waited silently, not daring to look at the half-elf, his own head bowed forward in shame. He was tired of this game, tired of not knowing, tired of guessing and second guessing himself. Could he trust Yuan? Would he accept the answer even if it was the one he didn't want to hear? Which one did he want to hear…?

"I can't. This is something that you need to figure out. If I tell you, either you will forever doubt or feel misguided by what follows. I will not do what Yggdrasil is doing."

"But if he's right? Why don't you support it? Why do you remain so….vague?"

"Why don't you?"

He paused frowning, clenching his hands and then pushing off the bench, walking over to the table. He stared at the two types of swords and then slowly lifted the long sword, feeling the way it dipped in his grip.

"Will you train with me?"

"In what style?"

"Both… but this way first."

"Any particular reason?"

"I don't know."

* * *

"You need to shave."

"Back off."

"You look like a homeless man. Go shave that mess off your face or I won't train with you today."

He glared at the half-elf before storming off into the bathroom. He stood in the room with the light off for a moment. He had been avoiding this since he had awoken, since Yggdrasil had forced him to look at himself in the mirror. Shaving meant looking at himself up close and he wasn't sure if he could handle it.

"You better hurry up or I'll just leave."

He sighed, tensing and then flicking the light on. It was blinding for a moment and he squinted against the light before opening his eyes fully.

It startled him, a horrified expression reflecting back at him as he stared at the rough looking person. He did look like a homeless man, his facial hair had grown into a short, scruffy beard that seemed longer in some areas than others. Coupled with his long disheveled hair, he looked like he crawled around under the bed covers for the last….however long he had been here now.

He quickly searched the cupboards, finding the cream and shaving blade. He worked slowly, his hands trembling slightly as he tried to make sure he didn't nick his skin. He didn't want Yuan laughing at him. It felt like forever since he had last put a blade to his face and he wondered who he had been when that was… Did Lloyd even shave? He surely did, being a teenage boy and Kratos had always been clean-shaven.

He kept his eyes on the facial hair, working slowly and smoothly, managing to not nick the skin. He rinsed the sink and splashed water on his face, washing off any loose hair.

His stomach twisted as he opened his eyes and stepped back. It was obvious now, who he was. The flat, blank expression, the way his hair seemed to hide most of his face. Would it change if he cut his hair and styled it up-

"What is taking so long?"

The door opened behind him and he turned glaring angrily at the shorter man. "Get the hell-"

Yuan's eyes widen and he stepped back. Shock and surprised seemed to flash across his face before he blinked and laughed.

"Man, do you look different now that the beard is gone."

"Different how?" He scowled.

"Different as in, you don't look like a homeless man anymore."

"You looked surprised. Why?" He stepped towards him.

"Now, now. Why wouldn't I be surprised, look at yourself? Aren't you surprised how much hair you had on your face?"

He paused, glancing back at the mirror frowning. It…seemed to fit, now that he stepped back and was looking. Yuan was right, the hair had been…strange. Was that why he reacted the way he did?

"I was thinking of cutting my hair."

"Oh? In what style?"

"Shorter, I guess. It's covering my eyes."

"Mhmm, did you need help with it? I'm not much of a barber."

"Maybe. I'm not sure. I'll let you know." He turned from the mirror, shutting off the light. "Let's go."

"Yes, Sir."

"Don't do that."

"Well, I have to call you something and if you can't decide on a name, then it'll have to be Sir. Besides you are getting quite demanding and whatnot with all that ordering around."

He didn't have an answer, so he stayed quiet. Yuan was just trying to provoke him. He wasn't ready. He couldn't…he didn't know anymore. There were too many uncertainties and they seem to grow with each passing day.

**Review Please!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Nearing the end now, I hope you all have been enjoyed reading the story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Tension is growing…**

Namco owns Tales of Symphonia.

**Chapter 4:**

"You seem more like yourself today."

He remained silent, ignoring Yggdrasil's comment as the angel took a seat across from him.

"How has the training been going with Yuan?"

"Fine."

"Rebuilding your strength?"

"Yes."

"Good, good." Yggdrasil smiled, nodding.

"What do you want?" He responded curtly.

"I wanted to see how things were going? How your memory has been coming along? Whether you had any questions."

Questions? Of course he had questions. He just wasn't sure if he wanted to ask Yggdrasil for the answer. He more often than not asked Yuan, but the man was frustratingly vague when it came to his responses and left him desiring more answers.

"How was I injured exactly?" He looked up, meeting the intense eyes across from him.

"I thought that was explained-"

" I want more detail."

"I see, very well. After you had arrived with the Chosen in the Tower of Salvation, you stepped aside to allow Remiel to complete the final ritual. However, before he could, Lloyd and his companions rushed the room and interrupted it and attacked Remiel."

He frowned slightly, trying to connect the fragmented memories with what was being told to him. "I do remember… the angel dying. Remiel… he…"

"You intervened immediately after of course, easily defeating them." Yggdrasil continued, pausing for a moment, eyeing him critically. "But you hesitated, on the final blow. All you had to do was strike him down, but you didn't. You lowered your blade."

He frowned, lowering his gaze to his hands. It was like he could see that moment, feel that moment. He shut his eyes, trying to imagine himself holding the sword, looking down on Lloyd. The image flickering back and forth between seeing Lloyd's face and then Kratos'

"I naturally came down to assist you. The boy was… impudent and, at the time, of little consequence, so I decided to end their miserable lives. But you intervened, putting yourself between the swords powers and the boy." Yggdrasil sighed. "I fear that the swords powers are partially responsible for what you have been going through.

"Sword? What sword-… that blade in the Tower?"

Yggdrasil frowned slightly, tilting his head. "The Eternal Sword, Kratos. Origins' Sword of Time and Space… do you truly not remember—"

He glared dangerously at Yggdrasil, who smiled bitterly and fell silent. The sword, he remembered the sword of course. He could remember the power, the blast striking him, the pressure knocking him flying…

"Wait. You said, Sword of time and space." He looked at Yggdrasil, intensely. "Could that explain it then? The reason I look like this, the reason-"

"Your appearance would not be affected by the sword, dear friend. However, perhaps it is the cause of your memory loss. Your lost...time, if you will."

"That seems oddly convenient. " He responded coldly.

"Think what you will, but I see little alternative for the cause of your ….predicament. How much longer are you going to remain in denial?"

He had no answer to that question, but it was becoming more and more obvious that perhaps…perhaps he was in denial. Perhaps he was merely trying to escape the reality of who he was…

* * *

"Did I hate myself?"

The question seemed to float in the air, but he did not dare look at Yuan, not wanting to see the expression on his face. After a moment, the half-elf responded.

"Shouldn't you ask yourself that question?"

"Down answer me with a question."

Yuan chuckled weakly. "Very well. I suppose there were parts of your life you were unhappy with… decisions you have made that you regret. But everyone has those—"

"When I look at myself in the mirror….I …. I loathe the person I see…"

Yuan nodded quietly. "And who is it that you see?"

"Kratos."

The name hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. He seemed to choke on the name as it left his lips, unable to take back what he had spoken. The person he saw in the mirror was Kratos. Meaning only one thing…

"Why do you hate him so much?"

He hesitated, struggling to find the answer, his fingers digging into his palms. "I'm not sure. Betrayal, disappointment, anger…they just flood through me when I see that face…when I hear that name."

"Anything else?"

"….Saddness, hurt... loss." He looked up, his body shuddering as the words escaped him. Relief? "Do I really hate myself that much?"

"Kratos has done many things in his life that he regrets. He's ….harmed others and himself during all this time. Things that he cannot fix and mistakes he cannot undo."

"I don't… I feel like I should know what those things were…"

"Perhaps, you are blocking out the memories because they are too painful?"

"What do you mean?"

Yuan sighed, seating himself. "The realization of your actions and the events that have unfolded because of those actions could be the reason your memory is blocked. Your refusal to accept the reality of what happened at the Tower of Salvation has led to your memories being blocked. Once you accept your reality, perhaps your memories will return."

"Accept my reality?" Yuan nodded at his query and he frowned, staring at the ground.

What was his reality? When he woke up, everything seemed strange and foreign, including his own body. Yuan and Yggdrasil refused to acknowledge the length of time that had passed during his recovery, but it was clearly longer than a few days. His appearance also bore an issue. He appeared to be Kratos. His face, his hair, his body, all matched the memory he held of the man. Yet he did not feel like Kratos…But neither did he feel like Lloyd. Was he truly just trying to disassociate himself from that identity? Was he Lloyd somehow twisted and trapped in this reality? Or was he Kratos, hating and loathing himself to the point he tried to convince himself he was someone else? What exactly was the power of the sword?

"Can I see _him_?"

Yuan stiffened sharply, looking at him. "Who-"

"_Him_" He emphasized the word, turning locking eyes with the half-elf. Yuan met his gaze with an unreadable expression.

"Are you sure that is something you want?"

"Yes."

"He is endanger from Yggdrasil. He can't come here."

He pondered those words, struggling to find out if there was a hidden clue, but quickly shrugged it off. Speculation didn't matter anymore. Once he saw I _him_ it wouldn't matter anymore. He'd know the truth. Whether he liked it or not…

"Can you take me to _him_?"

Yuan eyed him carefully and sighed heavily. "I was hoping you'd come to the decision on your own. I really don't want to deal with the mental….break down of what may follow with you learning the truth, since you are in such denial and confusion of your identity. But, if it's what you want…I'll see what I can do."

He nodded and rose from his seat, leaving the room.

* * *

Perhaps it had been a mistake.

He lowered the sword in his hand, staring at it. It had been easier to learn the single blade, but for some reason he felt a twinge of nostalgic when he had two blades in his hands. He couldn't identify the reason, it was just a feeling.

He sighed, his thoughts drifting back as he scanned the combat grounds. It had been some time since Yuan had come back to train with him. Not since he had asked for the meeting. Perhaps it had been a mistake. Perhaps _he_ had said no.

Or perhaps, Yggdrasil had caught onto their plan and had intervened. The angel hadn't been acting any different during his visits though. In fact he seemed pleased with the progression of his 'mannerism and personality'.

"_You definitely seem more like your old self. It's wonderful to see." _

What did that mean for him exactly? Did it mean he was reverting back to himself, to Kratos? Or was he simply just accepting what he had been told all this time?

He clenched his teeth and continued his training, trying to push the thoughts out of his head and focus on the movements.

His one hand gripped the large hilt firmly, shifting his stance and feet, flickers of instructions echoing in his mind, reprimanding him of mistakes.

"You've improved since we last fought."

He twitched, turning quickly, staring across the field at Yuan. He glowered, lowering the blade and striding over to him quickly.

"You took your time. So what's th-"

He stopped midsentence as the half-elf raised his hand, glancing about before gesturing with his head, turning. "Bring the sword. We're leaving."

His heart seemed to stop, his throat tightening and a cold chill rushed through his body. His legs seemed to move on their own as he fell behind the half-elf.

Leaving. He was leaving. Did that mean he would finally seem _him_? Did that mean this nightmare was almost over…?

He could barely focus as Yuan led him through the city towards the warp pad. His vision swam as they descended, his eyes struggling to refocus on the room they appeared in. He stiffened noticeably, his eyes roaming across the room, the familiar interior of the Tower of Salvation.

It was exactly as he remembered, the same sickening feeling, the strange surreal feeling of being removed from the world itself. He didn't have longer to ponder it as Yuan was already moving swiftly across the room towards the door.

"Don't linger, he'll notice sooner than later that you are missing and we don't want to be around when that happens."

He said nothing, rather simply followed Yuan, glancing back at the platform and the place where the nightmare had begun.

He felt his body visibly relax as they exited the tower and his feet touched the solid earth once more. He breathed deeply, looking up at the blue sky, squinting against the brightness of the sun. He wasn't used to seeing his surroundings like this, the whites and the purples having consumed his vision for so long, now broken by the variance of colors around him. Even the greenness of the grass seemed foreign but pleasant to his eyes.

Yuan paused for a moment, allowing him the chance to gain his bearings before motioning him to follow him around a rather large boulder off the side of the path. A strange machine greeted his vision, he listened vaguely to Yuan's explanation, referring to it as a rheaird or something, stating it could fly. Yuan motioned for him to get on the seat behind him, pointing to the handles on the side for him to hold onto.

"Don't think about holding onto me, or I may just tip you off." Yuan chuckled.

He smirked, but didn't argue, sitting behind the man was awkward enough as it was.

The flight helped distract him slightly from his anxiety ridden thoughts of the upcoming meeting. He allowed himself to take in the view of his surroundings from the earth, the sensation of the wind rushing over him a feeling of comfort and calmness. He felt like it was familiar, like he had done it before…. Perhaps it was the dragons? The flight to the Tower of Salvation. That had to be it.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Yuan's voice cut through the humming of the machine's engine, his head turned slightly to the side.

He hesitated before nodding firmly, his anxiety betrayed only by the whiteness in his knuckles as he gripped the handles beside him. Of course he wasn't sure, but it was the only way to get the truth, and he was tired of playing this game. He was tired of second guessing himself. Seeing _him _was the only way he'd finally accept his…reality.


	5. Chapter 5

**Here we are, at the final chapter. Thank you for your time. Enjoy!**

Namco owns Tales of Symphonia.

**Chapter 5: **

They stared at him as he walked through the halls of the building, men and women in uniform, eyeing him, whispering to each other as they passed through. He tried not to look in their direction as he followed Yuan through the building.

"Why are we at a Desian Base?"

"We're not." The quick simple answer was the only response he was going to receive. They continued through the halls until they reached a larger room, the doors closing behind them, shutting out the hum and noise.

He scanned the room quickly, but found they were alone and he looked questioningly at Yuan.

"They are waiting in a different room. I'll get them, but before I do I want to make sure-"

"I need this, Yuan." He cut him off sharply, locking eyes with him. "If you and Yggdrasil won't give me the truth, then I need to find it for myself. I need to know who… I need to know." He finished quietly.

Yuan held his gaze for a moment longer before sighing and nodding. "I'll go get him." He turned quickly, leaving through the same door and leaving him alone.

He scanned the room silently for a moment, gripping the hilt of his sheathed sword tightly…reassuringly. This was it.

He closed his eyes, breathing in deeply, feeling his heart racing in his chest. Perhaps he was being naïve… childish even. The denial he had been living with all this time was rather foolish, but it was simply that…denial. He couldn't accept what was before him. Yuan was right; he was the one that should come to the decision, trusting in himself, in his senses. And now he'd come face to face with that truth. There would be no denying it any longer. The clues had been there from the beginning and he wasn't brave enough to trust his own feelings.

It was embarrassing almost, to come to this realization, now that he was here. But it was important, perhaps necessary…

He heard the footsteps, the hiss of the door. His eyes opened quickly, turning to face the door, his hand gripping tightly to the sword as if it would help ground him in what was to come.

His eyes widen slowly as the person entered, their eyes locking for a split second, a similar stunned expression crossing the others face. The door hissed shut and silence permeated the room around them.

It was him.

No, it wasn't him. Something was off. The hair was wrong…the eyes slightly off color…weren't they? Or was it the nose…

"Lloyd?"

He felt his stomach drop and he recoiled at the sound of the name, retreating from the person in the door, shivers scuttling across his skin.

"No."

His voice was low, barely audible and he froze, scanning the figure. Was this a twisted joke or was it reality. How could he be standing there? Had he been wrong? All this time had he mistaken the face he saw in the mirror?

The figure didn't move, rather allowing the space between them to exist. He stood transfixed, his eyes tracing every small detail, a chill trickling through his body, his throat tightening.

"No." He whispered the word again, seeing the empathetic expression of his reflection—no not his reflection because it wasn't right. There were small differences, different enough to alter the look just the right amount. It was like someone had changed the hair to be slightly lighter, shaped the jaw to a different angle…

He had been wrong. He had remembered wrong.

He grabbed his head, fingers curling into the strands of his hair, a gut wrenching cry rushing from his lips as he collapsed to his knees. His body curled forward, his body heaving for air as he gasped and choked. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think. How could he have been so wrong, how could he have forgotten?! And if this really was the truth, why did he look like this?

He knew why. Deep down, since that moment, he had known the truth but had refused to accept it; accepting it would have led to a different reality, one that he hadn't wanted to accept. If he wasn't Kratos, then he was his son. The mere thought of this sent shudders through him and he felt his fingers dig into his arms painfully.

He felt something grip his shoulder and he instinctively gripped the hilt of his blade, attempting to swing at the offender. Another hand grabbed his wrist, effectively preventing the blade from being unsheathed. His enraged eyes rose to meet that of the man before him, his teeth clenched painfully.

He struggled, but the man's grip didn't budge, the anguish, sadden gaze pleading almost as their eyes locked.

"Lloyd."

He choked, his grip loosened and his hand released the blade. He dropped his head, his shoulders trembling. He felt his entire body convulse and then he released a choking sob, practically falling into the man's embrace.

"I'm sorry." He gasped; not knowing who it was he was apologizing to…

"It's alright," was the reply.

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" The words tumbled from his mouth in slurred, pained breaths.

"Lloyd, breathe-"

He recoiled suddenly at the mention of the name, his palms pushing back against the figure, who immediately conceded, removing himself.

He struggled to his feet, stumbling back slightly, breathing sharply. It hurt, to hear it, to hear it said so simply, so readily; after all this time, hearing the name spoken to him strangely hurt. But it didn't fit, the name still seemed wrong, like it didn't fit him right anymore. It felt like a name that belonged to someone else…

"Why-...?" He clenched his teeth, grimacing as if the mere process of talking was painful. "Why am I like—this?"

The question was followed by silence, broken only by his own ragged breaths as he struggled to calm himself. He needed answers; he needed to know… why? Why did he look like this? Why did _he_ look the exact same? Why was this done to him? Why had he been abandoned-

"It's been seven years, Lloyd."

The room seemed to tilt and he closed his eyes against the motion. Seven years?

"Since the Tower-?"

"Yes."

"Seven?"

The man nodded…no…Kratos nodded. The real Kratos.

His head dipped forward and he smiled, his lips stretching across his teeth, his body swaying and shaking slightly as he began to laugh. He hugged his body, his hair hiding his face from view. He wanted to cry…

"I'm an idiot…I'm such an idiot…"

"Lloyd-"

"Idiot! Idiot, idiot, idiot!" His voice rose in intensity with every word and then he just fell into silence. He stared numbly at his hands, the hands that looked so foreign when this nightmare had begun. But they were his, just seven years older.

It explained everything…

He heard the hiss of the door opening, the sound of footsteps entering the room and the same hiss of the door closing. He didn't look up, but rather continued to stare at his hands.

"I wasn't crazy." He spoke suddenly, a strange, almost relieved expression crossing his face as the realization finally seemed to sink in. "When I woke up in that case…I knew the truth…I knew who I was. I wasn't crazy."

"So you've found your truth then?"

He looked up slowly, staring at the two men across from him. His smile curled into a sneering glare as his gaze settled upon Yuan.

"You knew this whole time. You watched me struggle all this time-" He spoke slowly, his rage building with every word.

"By the time I had realized where you were, Lloyd, Yggdrasil had already-"

"How many times did I ask you for the answer?! For the truth?!" Lloyd's voice rose, silencing the half-elf. "You left me there tormented with vague answers and word games!"

"You wouldn't have accepted the answer!" Yuan snapped back, his tone firm. "Yggdrasil had had plenty of time to seed that doubt into you already."

"I was confused! And you did nothing to help-"

"The first time I met you, you refused to answer the question. So answer it now! 'Who are you?'"

"Yuan, enough!" Kratos grabbed the shorter man roughly by the shoulder.

"Answer it! Or did you already start to believe what Yggdrasil had been telling you?"

He froze staring at the half-elf. "What-"

"I'd thought you'd be relieved to know the truth? To know you were right? Yet you stand here horrified by it, angered by it. This is what you wanted, isn't it? Validation?" Yuan shook his head. "Or perhaps it wasn't what you were expecting."

"Yuan, that's enough! Don't you dare blame him for what has happened! He has every right to be angry." Kratos moved between them swiftly. "Leave. Now."

Yuan shrugged, withdrawing, glancing one last time at him before retreating through the door.

Kratos turned back towards him, sighing heavily. "Why…why don't we sit down? I'll try to answer your questions."

He watched him pulled the chairs out, but he didn't move, hesitating, Yuan's words lingering in his mind.

"He's…not completely… wrong."

Kratos lifted his gaze towards him, but remained silent, taking a seat in one of the chairs.

He hesitated, looking at the empty chair, his leg suddenly feeling weak and unsteady. He slowly walked forward, gripping the chair arms as he settled himself into the cushioned seat.

"None of this is your fault, Lloyd."

He lifted his head, locking eyes with the man across from him. Kratos, the true angel of Cruxis and…his father. He smiled weakly, shaking his head. It explained everything, the reason why he looked the way he did, why he had his face, his hair, the reason why they had similar mannerism... but it had always been not quite right. Because he wasn't Kratos, he never was despite all this time…

"I believed it…for a moment." He spoke softly, his body suddenly feeling exhausted and his mind calm. "I believed that I…was you. It seemed like… he made it seem like it was the most obvious explanation."

"But you questioned it."

"Of course…" He trailed off quietly.

But when had he stopped questioning it. When had he simply just accepted it? And if he wasn't Kratos…it meant he was Lloyd.

Or at least…he used to be…

**Well, that's that. I hope you all enjoyed the story. I probably upset a few of you with this ending…little bit ambiguous, but it just seemed right. Depending on the interest I may do a continuation, or perhaps an epilogue. This last chapter…more specifically, the last scene, was emotionally draining as I wanted to get it just right (I even read it aloud to myself multiple times)and stayed up half the night. But I digress. Depending on the respond, I may continue it. Let me know. **

**Peace out!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Greetings from the abyss of time. It's been practically a year since I posted this story. As mentioned at the end of the previous chapter, if there was interest, I'd consider an epilogue to this story. I was a bit dejected by the original response to the story, but because my original friend and another reader showed interest in more, I've decided to provide a bit of an epilogue. Also I noticed many people have read it over the past year, which makes me happy. So thank you all. Hope you enjoy.**

Namco owns Tales of Symphonia.

**Epilogue:**

Identity is a tricky thing. Many consider it to be a strong indicator of a person; their passion, the very being of who they are and everything that forms them as an individual. But in reality, identity can shift just as easily. One can take on traits of their friends, mannerisms and ways of speaking. They share interests and ideas with people they spend time with. One's identity isn't something that is necessarily set in stone, but rather a flexible aspect of their being that can change if we let it. However...

"Lloyd."

His eyes rose to meet the gaze of the one speaking, the softened look that greeted him almost maternal, mixed with concern and worry. He knew his own expression didn't do much to show it, but he did feel comfort and shame as he held the gaze.

"Are you listening?"

He lowered his gaze, the shame swelling more as he realized he had stop paying attention to the conversation.

"No. Sorry."

He could hear her sigh and lean back in the seat, but when he dared to look back at her he was surprised to see a weak smile on her face. Clearly seeing his confused expression, she elaborated.

"Why should I be surprised? Never listened before after all."

It took a moment, the quietness of the room silent until a stifled chuckle came from the other side of the room.

"Guess some things never change right, Raine? Not sure if that is good or bad for you, Lloyd."

"Genis." The woman scolded, but she was smiling as well. "Anyway, what I was saying is, it'll take time, but don't be discouraged. You've already proven to have many of your memories, it's just sorting it out in your head and trusting them."

He nodded, quiet, pondering the statement before speaking. "Sometimes it's hard to know which ones are real...and which aren't. But it shouldn't be hard right? I should just know. So why...?"

She leaned forward, reaching her hand out, gently laying hers upon his. "Sometimes, when we are told a lie over and over again, we start to wonder if perhaps it is true. Yggdrasil used your isolation to make you doubt yourself, to believe that what he was saying made sense that it was the truth. The doubt is something that is hard to get rid of, especially when it's about ourselves. If we hear something enough times, we start to believe it to be true.

"Like Colette needing to become an angel to save the world." Genis spoke up, a bitter undertone to his voice. "They made her believe that dying was the only way so that she would do it willingly."

Raine nodded. "Unfortunately, yes. It seems this organization has been very clever with such manipulation over the years. Do not blame yourself, Lloyd."

"No." He hit the table, fists closed, causing them to jump in their seats. "No. It's not alright. This isn't the same. I didn't just believe a lie, I believed I was someone else entirely. I believed I was 'him', the man I hated most! A completely different person! How could I-... " He fell silent clenching his teeth and then lowered his head, his hands relaxing. After a moment, he spoke. "I looked like him. I looked in the mirror and believed I was him. It wasn't just...it was just Yggdrasil. It is my fault. Part of this is my fault."

They didn't respond, the silence in the room lingering. He inhaled sharply and then stood, turning and leaving the room. He couldn't explain it. How could he? He lifted a hand to his hair, feeling the shortened locks of hair. He had asked them to cut it, to give it a different style. He still refused to look at himself in the mirror at this point. What if he still saw 'him', what if he always did from now on?

He walked out of the house. His house. The one he had grown up in. It didn't feel like his house right now. It all felt smaller, more cluttered, too small.

"And where do ya think ya are going?" the familiar gruff voice made him stop in his tracks, just as he was about to cross the small creek. He sighed, knowing that it was futile to consider running from this conversation.

"No where."

"Damn right."

He turned looking at the small dwarf. Lloyd stiffened a bit to see 'him' there as well. Not only that, but Colette, hovering quietly in the shade of the house, with Noishe curled protectively around her floating feet.

He definitely did not want to be here right now.

"Did Raine offer any help?" 'he' spoke quietly.

Lloyd shrugged, glancing at Colette's blank expression and then down at the ground.

"I see."

"All I see is a boy feeling sorry for himself." The gruff voice countered.

"Dirk-"

Lloyd cast a withering look at his adoptive father. "I'm not-"

"Whatcha going to do about, Colette? That's what I wanna know."

Lloyd blinked, caught off guard by the question. "Wh-what-?"

"That poor girl has been waiting seven years for ya. And ya come back, moping and feeling sorry for yaself. My son is stronger than that. He knows better than that. Ya know who ya are boy. Nothing that happened to ya, nor what they said to ya can change that."

"I didn't- I'm not..." Lloyd hesitated, his eyes moving back to Colette. He was right. The shame rose up inside of him. He didn't need to wonder and worry about it; it was obvious who he was. He might be a bit changed, but ultimately the lies were simply that, lies. They no longer defined him. They could not longer control him. If anything, what he learned, the skills and knowledge...it made him stronger. Take the best parts of what happened to him and throw away the rest. He refused to let Yggdrasil still control him. Not anymore...

"So, Lloyd, what are ya going to do?"

He knew. He stepped back towards them, walking straight up his childhood friend, the friend that had been willing to die for him, the friend he had failed to protect, the friend he had cast aside all these years. He was such a hypocrite.

"_You dork. No matter what happens to you, you're still you. Even if you become an angel. Even if you become like Marble. I won't ever think you're weird. Ever."_

Identity. A flexible, changeable concept of a person's very being. His identity had been twisted, manipulated and confused through lies and isolation. Believing what was told to him because the truth was perhaps harder to believe in that moment. Yet, the memory of standing on the cold mountain top brought a smile to his face. Feeling her hand around his, the happy look on her face as he spoke with her; knowing now of the distant sadness inside her as she neared her death...

He knew what he would do. He knew what he had to do. It was the same feeling he had when he saw her kneeling in the Tower of Salvation, the same feeling watching the life drain from her eyes and turn to the now vacant stare she still carried to this day. He knew, that after all this time, after all these years, that promise he had made her hadn't changed. Even if he had doubts in himself, this was one thing that would never falter and he would cling to this. Perhaps, he could find himself again by doing what he knew he had to.

"I'm going to save her. I'm going to save Colette."

**End**


End file.
